


The Lion King and the Jungle Emperor

by AshWolfForever



Category: The Lion King (1994), ジャングル大帝 | Kimba the White Lion (Anime)
Genre: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-24
Updated: 2010-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26387125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshWolfForever/pseuds/AshWolfForever
Summary: The original, unfinished version. When their fathers are murdered, it's up to Kimba and Simba to save their kingdoms. But Simba, consumed by guilt, refuses to go home. Can Kimba convince him of his rightful place before it's too late? [You'll never find out in this draft, it is unfinished and will remain so. One day I'll come back to it, but this version will remain to preserve the proof of my skills at the time or lack thereof.]





	1. Broken Circle

**Author's Note:**

> It's 100% possible this story will make no sense in places without some knowledge of both "The Lion King" and the 1989 version of "Kimba the White Lion". It also has some really bad Christian influences that are a small part of why it has been discontinued. I was attempting some "Prince of Egypt" flavor and it came out too heavy-handed.

“Do as you must, brother. My place is here. We are the continuation of a sacred linage, one that deserves to thrive once again.”

Panja could only nod and walk away. Leona’s life was hers to live. He had duties of his own, including keeping his word to their mother and attending to the hunting party that had invaded his kingdom – the one the village his idealistic sister now called herself guardian of was sheltering. In the shadow of the huts, the Jungle Emperor listened to the conversation between the village chief, the leader of the hunting party, and the priest that had accompanied them. _Let’s see what they have to say for themselves._ His eyes narrowed as the priest spoke. _And it had better be good._

“Chief, Jacob tells me your people worship white lions. Is that so?”

“No, Father John. The Priestess is not a goddess,” declared the Chief. “She, like her brother in the jungle, is a guardian and guide to those of this land, put in place by the Creator.”

“So, it would be like me worshiping an angel?” Father John replied.

“That’s correct,” replied the Chief. “Your angels are the Creator’s messengers. So are the White Lions. They are far wiser that we.”

“I never thought I find a people so removed from the outside world whose beliefs so mirrored ours, Chief. Thank you for talking with me.”

“It is my pleasure, Father. It is rare to find one of your people who understand. Few even try.”

“God or messenger,” interrupted Jake Viper, leader of the hunting party, “that won’t stop me from bagging the biggest prize here.”

“Must you be so heartless, Jacob?” replied the priest.

That was enough. Panja set about freeing the animals the hunters had seized. He urged them to be quiet, but many were frantic and they rushed from their cages. The earth shook from their haste for freedom. The animals rushed past the bon fire and broke down the gates. As they raced by, one of the logs rolled away from its fellows and set the huts alight.

Jake demanded an explanation from the chief as he felt the ground rumble beneath him, only to be told it was Panja, just as he had been warned. In response, he stood and grabbed his shotgun. “I’ll show that lion who’s boss!”

Just then, Panja walked out of the shadows, right up to the hunter who stood there shaking. The Jungle Emperor yanked the gun out of his hands and calmly strode over to the fire. With a toss of his head, Panja threw the gun into the flames and walked away.

“I don’t know, Jacob,” said the priest, stifling a laugh. “I think maybe _he_ showed _you_.”

The cries of a child echoed from one burning hut, but only Panja heard. He boldly rushed into the flames and rescued the child. Leaving him just outside the range of the blaze, he whispered, “You’re safe.” The child was Joey, orphaned nephew of Father John, and the boy understood every word. His point made, the Jungle Emperor took leave of the village. His thoughts turned to his mate, and the journey he had to make that night. It would be a long way to Pride Rock.

Elsewhere Eliza and her sister lay in their den, talking softly about tomorrow’s event.

“I’m so sorry you have to miss the presentation,” said Kusema. “If only Panja wasn’t so worried.”

“It’s all right,” replied the Empress. “Panja will give our regards to Mufasa and Sarabi, don’t you worry.”

“Oh, well, let’s try and think of names for our cubs.”

“Panja should name him,” replied the Empress. She smiled fondly at her sister. “But we can come up with suggestions.”

Panja crested a tall cliff and turned his face east. He let out a powerful roar, which echoed across the land. As if his roar had been a signal, the sun began to rise. From all across the Pride Lands they came: the hunted, and the hunters. Today they gathered in peace, to celebrate the birth of the new Pride Rock Prince. Panja looked up to see Zazu the hornbill, eyes and ears of his brother King Mufasa, fly low over the assembly. He smiled, knowing well the earful his brother was about to receive.

“The cheetahs have all arrived, Sire, as well as the zebras, the giraffes, antelopes, the elephants, the hippos, and the – ”

Mufasa quickly scanned the crowd below, tuning out his majordomo’s chatter. Meticulously detailed in his reports, Zazu never seemed to know when less was more. A single white figure stood out from the throng. The King smiled as Jungle Emperor Panja escorted Rafiki, the ageing shaman, up the cliff to the top of Pride Rock. The baboon looked amused. After embracing both his brother and the shaman, Mufasa led them over to where his mate Sarabi waited with their son.

The King and the Emperor shared a smile as Rafiki preformed the ritual that marked Simba as heir to the throne. They all looked on with pride and amusement as the cub sneezed. Afterwards Rafiki carefully lifted him into his arms and carried him to the edge of Pride Rock. Then he held him up for all to see. The entire kingdom let out a cheer of joy.

Well, almost entire kingdom – in a cave within sight of Pride Rock, the rulers’ dark brother watched his son toy with a mouse. Nuka released his after his prey for another chase, only for Scar’s paw to lash out, landing on the mouse as it fled.

“Dad!” complained the cub. “Give it back!”

“Life’s not fair, is it?” Scar asked as he began to toy with the creature, speaking as it tried to flee. “But for an accident of birth, Mufasa would never rule, and I would see to the land’s welfare.” Scar dangled the mouse from his claws, and grinned as his son snatched it.

“And _you_ ,” Nuka addressed the mouse as he prepared to devour it, “will never see another day!”

But before he could swallow the little creature, a grating voice pierced his ears. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?”

The dark lions turned to see the King’s messenger, Zazu appear in doorway of the cave.

Nuka sneered, failing to notice the mouse’s escape. “What do _you_ want?” he demanded in a bored voice.

“I’m here to announce,” began Zazu in a pompous tone, “That King Mufasa and Emperor Panja are on their way. You two are in major trouble!”

“Oh,” replied Nuka, yawning. “I am _so_ scared.”

“Yes, I am positively _shaking_ all over,” added Scar as with a gleam in his eye, stalking toward Zazu.

“Now, Scar,” began the hornbill, his voice shaking. “Don’t look at me that way… _HELP!_ ”

At that moment, the voice of Mufasa reached them. _“_ Scar… _stop,”_ he ordered in a bored tone.

“Perfect timing, your highness,” said Zazu, his wings folded. “Ah!”

Nuka pounced on the bird, pinning him to the floor. He smirked at Zazu and licked his chops. At least until Panja separated them with a gentle but firm paw, disregarding the cub’s protests.

Mufasa strolled down to where Scar stood, not to commenting on his nephew’s behavior. As usual, he was too lazy to intervene.

Scar slyly sided up to the King, and every word he spoke dripped with disrespect. “Oh, look, son, if it isn’t my _big brothers_ descending from on high to mingle with the commoners.”

Panja’s eyed narrowed. “Why didn’t we see either of you at the presentation this morning?”

“Aww,” said Nuka in a falsely sweet voice, “we missed the little runt’s big day? Dad, did you hear that?”

“Oh, how _terrible_ ,” said Scar, feigning disappointment. With those words, he scraped his claws along the carven wall. Then, as he examined the result, he said, “I can’t believe that _duty_ slipped my mind.”

“You are the King’s family,” snapped Panja. “You should’ve been first in line!”

“I _was_ first in line,” replied the dark lion, “until that little hairball was born!”

“That _hairball_ ,” replied Mufasa, “is my son, and _your_ future king!”

“Oh, I shall practice my curtsy!” said Scar sarcastically, turning to leave.

Nuka chuckled and made to follow him.

“Don’t turn you back on _me_ , Scar!”

The slender, black-maned lion looked back over his shoulder, green-eyes narrowed. “Oh, no, Mufasa,” he replied. “Perhaps _you_ shouldn’t turn your back on _me._ ”

Mufasa roared and rushed past Scar, spinning around to face him. _“Is that a CHALLENGE?”_ the Lion King demanded.

“Temper, temper,” chided Scar. “I wouldn’t _dream_ of challenging _you._ ”

Nuka rolled his eyes at the thought.

“Pity,” said Zazu, “why not?”

“You clearly think you would make a better king,” added Panja angrily.

“Because while as far as _brains_ go, I got the lion’s share,” replied the green-eyed lion. “But when it comes to _brute strength…_ ” and here Scar eyed both of his vastly larger brothers. “I’m afraid I’m rather at the shallow end of the gene pool.”

The rulers watched the dark lion sauntered out of the cave. Their nephew shot them a glare and followed.

“What are we going to do with them?” Mufasa asked no one in particular.

“It’s my fault, brother,” replied Panja. “But no one can change the past. Take care, Mufasa. I must go home.”

“Farewell, Panja,” Mufasa replied. _I only hope one day you will cease to blame yourself. We were both at fault._ “Give my regards to Eliza.”

That afternoon Eliza, awakened by the sound of her mate’s roar, left the shelter of her den to search for the other lion. “Panja?” she called as she wandered through the foliage. “Where are you?” Eventually she pushed past several high ferns, and came to a clearing. _It’s coming from over here._ But in the clearing there was only a tape player. Eliza gasped. Before she could move, she found herself hoisted into the air.

“We got her! Now take her to the village! We have to finish this before that busy-body priest gets back!”

“PANJA!” cried Eliza, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her.

Joey, left behind while his uncle visited two other nearby villages, awoke to the sound of the gates opening. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he got up to see what was going on. The boy’s eyes widened as he saw it for what it was: a trap. Jake and his cronies had placed a caged lioness, who must be that mate of the one from last night, before the entrance, but far enough inside that he would have to enter the village. He prayed hard for God to save the lions. Though God answers all prayers, Joey forgot that, sometimes, the answer is _no._

Panja sniffed this way and that. He had just gotten back to the jungle, and so far, there had been no sign of his mate. Just then, Eliza’s voice reached his ears, warning him to stay away. The Jungle Emperor rushed to the village gates.

Eliza was frantic when she saw him. “PANJA!” she cried, clawing at the bars of the cage. “No, it’s a trap!”

The white lion looked left and right. The path to his mate was lined with steel traps. There was no way to go but _through_ them. Panja let out a powerful roar before he rushed headlong onto the path. The deadly traps snapped shut within inches of his paws. He simply dodged the spears the villagers aimed at him, using a tree to scale the fence. His fury was enough to scatter the humans. Once reached his mate’s cage he grabbed the heavy padlock in his jaws, straining to jerk it off.

“Well, well. What have we here?”

Panja and Eliza looked up as Jake Viper strode out from behind one of the huts. There was a resounding BOOM as he fired, and Eliza watched in horror as her mate fall.

Joey had to strain to hear the white lion’s last words. When he did, he not ashamed of his tears

“Eliza…” said Panja, reaching his paw toward his mate. “Don’t let…”

“NO!” cried Eliza, “Panja, please! I couldn’t bear it! Don’t leave us, please don’t go!”

“Don’t let them take away our son, Eliza,” said the white lion. His eyes threatened to close, but it seemed he was determined to get this message across. “He must take his rightful place.”

“Panja…” replied his mate, straining her own paw to meet his.

Joey watched sadly as the two lions’ paws finally met.

“Call him… Kimba,” were the Jungle Emperor’s last words.

“PANJA!” cried Eliza, pain filling her eyes. Then she lifted her head and let out an agonizing cry that echoed the trees, where the jungle’s dogs carried it into the distance.

Joey could not stand to look any more, especially when he saw the smirk on Jake’s face.

By nightfall, word of Panja’s death had reached Mufasa through an avian messenger of Leona’s. Despite the distance, their thoughts ran in the same direction. They both stared up at the sky, searching for a new star.

“Brother…” whispered Mufasa.

“Panja…” breathed Leona.

“I have failed you,” they said in unison.

The next morning, Eliza and the other animals were loaded onto a ship headed for America. Joey and his uncle boarded the boat, resolved to see that the animals were well cared for even if they could not free them. Joey chose not to tell the Priest what Panja had said. He knew if there were any way he could he would help get Kimba to the jungle.


	2. Echoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Joey "sings" is “God Will Take Care of Me” from the Prince of Egypt Inspirational album, written and performed by Carmen. I removed the lyrics much as I did in the fanfiction version. The story of Mtume was originally published as part one of a story on Scar and Mufasa's childhood, and thus ignored here to avoid the repetition. In summary, a lion is led by "The Creator" to find a mate, and once he finds her and starts his kingdom, the Creator "blesses" them with a white lion cub. I'm 100% aware of how screwed up that concept is. It's yet another reason this story was put aside to be revised.

It was dark in the cargo hold of the ship Eliza found herself in after Panja’s death. However, there were two sparks of light in her life even now. One was the birth of her son, whom she had named Kimba. The other was the nephew of the missionary, Joey. As it turned out, he was the boy Panja had saved from the fire. Every day he came down to visit the new mother and her son. Her young son looked so forward to these visits.

“When will Joey be here, Mama?” asked the cub, bouncing around the cage. “Will he be here soon? Huh? Huh?”

Eliza chuckled softly and smiled. “Very soon, my son,” she replied. “I can hear him on the stairs.”

Laughing, Joey all but skipped down the stairs and over to the cage. He reached into his pocket and held out a few scraps from his lunch. Eliza and Kimba gently took them from his hand.

“Are you going to read more stories from your magic book?” asked Kimba once Joey sat down, nodding at his bible. “Can I hear about Moses again? Please, please, please!”

Joey read as the story of Moses as often as he could, as it was Kimba’s favorite. But the boy smiled and shook his head. “I’ve got something better this time,” he told the white cub, “Let me show you a dance and song Uncle John taught me.” The boy clapped his hands and began to sing a song recounting the legend. The animals smiled and joined in, Kimba dancing around the cage to the beat. At last, the white cub leaped out and joined his friend. After Joey had left for the evening, Kimba turned to Eliza. “Joey’s God is our Creator, right, Mama?” he said.

“Yes, dear, he is.”

“If He can help Moses, do you think He’ll help us, too?”

Eliza closed her eyes. “Yes, my son. I’m sure the Creator will help you. He has always helped your family.” Eliza then taught Kimba the story of Mtume.

The cub stared at her wide-eyed. “The Creator did all that?”

“Yes, Kimba, he did. And so He will help and guide you, so long as you listen to Him.”

Meanwhile, in the Pride Lands, another young prince was growing up. In the dark of the pre-dawn hours, Simba was already wake and eager to start the day. After looking out for a moment at the sleeping land below, the Pride Rock Prince dashed back into the cave. In his haste, he stepped on more than one dozing lion. Only one was truly bothered.

“Hey!” snapped Nuka, winching as his tail was trod on, red eyes narrowed. “Watch where you’re goin’, Simby!”

“Sorry,” said the younger cub over his shoulder as he hurried over to his father. “C’mon, Dad, we gotta go. Wake up!”

Sarabi was the first to stir. She nudged her mate, who was still a late sleeper. When there was no response, she whispered in his ear. “Your son is awake,” she told him firmly.

Mufasa groaned, shifted slightly, and replied, “Before sunrise, he’s _your_ son.”

Simba was undeterred. He grabbed his father’s ear and tugged on it, repeating all the while: “Dad. Dad, Dad. _Dad!_ ” His hold slipped and the cub went tumbling into a handful of bones in a corner. He came running back and head-butted the King. _“You PROMISED!”_

Those words, so similar to another excitable cub he had known, snapped Mufasa awake. He opened his eyes and stared at Simba’s irate face, the expression painfully similar to his brother’s, long ago. A quick glance around the cave confirmed that Scar, as usual, was already up and gone. “Okay! Okay!” he said, sleepily getting to his feet. “I’m up, I’m up!”

“YEAH!” cheered his son, racing for the exit.

Yawning, the Lion King got up and followed. Sarabi briefly nuzzled her son, and smiled warmly as she watched the loves of her life walk up the path to the top of Pride Rock. Today would be a big day for them, as her mate turned from student to teacher.

The King and the Prince sat on the edge of Pride Rock, watching the rising sun paint the landscape. Mufasa took a deep breath and spoke the words the Creator had told Mtume long ago.

“Look, Simba, everything the light touches in our kingdom,” said Mufasa, smiling when this brought an awed “wow” from his son. “A king’s time as ruler rises and falls like the sun. One day, Simba, the sun will set on my time here, and rise with _you_ as the new king.”

“And this will all be _mine_?” asked the Prince.

 _“Everything,”_ Mufasa confirmed.

“Everything the light touches,” repeated Simba, walking along the edge and taking in the Pride Lands. “But what about that shadowy place?”

“ _That’s_ beyond our borders,” replied Mufasa quickly. “You must never go there, Simba.”

“But I thought a king can do whatever he wants,” said Simba, slightly confused.

Mufasa chuckled. “There’s more to being king than getting your way all the time,” he said, starting back down the rock.

“There’s _more_?” replied Simba, incredulous.

 _“Simba,”_ said Mufasa reproachfully.

Simba listened with awe as his father led him on a tour of his future kingdom. There was so much to know, he was not sure he would ever remember it all. Neither the less, he paid strict attention.

“Everything you see exists together in a delicate balance. As King, you have to understand that balance, and respect all the creatures – from the crawling ant to the leaping antelope.”

“But, Dad, don’t we _eat_ the antelope?”

“Yes, Simba, but let me explain. When we die, our bodies become the grass. And the antelope eat the grass. And so, we are all connected in the great Circle of Life.”

The crown prince was captivated. Before he could gather his wits, a familiar winged creature landed on a near-by rock. Simba groaned.

“Good morning, sire!” said Zazu in a chipper voice. He bowed and smiled when Mufasa returned the greeting. “Checking in with the morning report.”

“Fire away,” replied Mufasa.

Simba rolled his eyes and quickly tuned out Zazu’s chattering report full of clichés. The bird may have been helpful to his father, but he drove Simba up the wall. A grasshopper suddenly leaped out of the grass and the cub immediately chased after it.

His father noticed his lack of attention. “What are you doing, son?”

Simba opened his paws and sighed. “Pouncing, but I missed.”

Mufasa eyed Zazu with an odd gleam. “Let an old pro show you how it’s done,” he suggested. “Zazu, would you turn around?”

“Yes, Sire.”

Simba rolled his eyes when the bird did so, and resumed his speech as if there had been no pause.

“Stay low to the ground,” Mufasa whispered.

Simba complied, sliding into a crouch. “Okay, stay low to the ground, right,” he replied, his voice not quite as low as his father’s.

Zazu spun around again. “What’s going on?”

“A pouncing lesson,” answered Mufasa happily.

“Oh?” replied the majordomo. “Very good. Pouncing.” Then his eyes widened. “ _POUNCING?_ Oh, no, sire you can’t be serious…”

Mufasa merely motioned for Zazu to turn back around. Simba just barely caught the bird saying something about humiliation before his father returned to the instructions. When Zazu peaked over his shoulder, they were both out of sight. He was getting more and more edgy when the golden cub leapt out from the grass and pinned him to the ground. The Pride Rock Prince smiled with delight as his father laughed aloud. He trotted over to Mufasa, turning his back on the bird. Therefore, he never saw the gopher pop up near Zazu and give him _his_ report.

“Now, this time,” began Mufasa, but he never got to finish.

Zazu took to the air eyes wide. “Sire! Hyenas! In the Pride Lands!”

Simba saw all the playfulness drain from his father’s face. “Zazu, take Simba home.”

The cub’s face fell. “Aw, Dad, can’t I come?”

“No, son!” And the King was gone.

“I never get to go anywhere,” complained Simba bitterly.

The hornbill chuckled. “Oh young master, one day _you_ will be King. And then you can chase those slobbering, mangy, stupid poachers from dawn until dusk.”

With those words, they started back toward Pride Rock.

Eliza looked down at her son, wishing this day had not come so soon. The rats had informed her that a storm was coming – one that would sink the ship. And so, the Empress prepared her son for a journey he must now make alone. She thought for a moment about where to begin.

“Kimba,” she said softly. “It means ‘corpse’. Your father gave you that name, for even a ruler answers to death. His name was Panja. In our homeland, he was the most powerful lion of all. He kept the law of the jungle. All animals trusted him, and looked to him for guidance. Even King Mufasa, his brother.”

“King?” asked Kimba, confused. “Like a pharaoh?”

Eliza laughed softly. Of course he would assume that. “No, never like that; Mufasa is the Lion King, and Panja was the Jungle Emperor, just as you will be.”

“ _ME?”_ repeated Kimba, incredulous.

“Yes, my son. To be a leader is your destiny, Kimba, just as it was for your father and his father before him. That’s the way it’s always been. Since the days of Mtume, a white lion has roamed our homeland, standing guard over all the other animals: protecting and helping them. Mufasa and Panja were the greatest team of all. But, now…” Eliza’s throat tightened and she found it hard to speak. “Now, it is up to you and the Pride Rock Prince.”

“Who?” the white cub asked.

“He is the son of your uncle Mufasa, and so your cousin. I was taken away before I could learn his name. You have another uncle, Scar, and two aunts; Leona is a Priestess in a village and my sister Kusema should be ruling in my place.” Steadily, the Empress told her son of her capture and his father’s death. He remained quiet throughout the tale, for which she was grateful. “Life doesn’t always give us what we want,” she finished. “Kimba, you must go home to the jungle.”

“The jungle?” repeated the Prince, obviously confused.

“It is where we belong, my son, and I want nothing more than for you to grow up strong and free.”

Kimba nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Eliza chuckled sadly. “Not me. I can’t get out of this cage.”

The cub’s eyes widened. He rushed over to her side and huddled close to her warm fur.

The mother looked down at her son with love. “Look, my son,” Eliza said, indicating the other cages with a toss of her head. “ _This_ is our destiny. You must escape for all of us, Kimba. Carry us in your heart.” With that, she stood and lifted him up by his scruff, pushing him out of the cage. He immediately crawled back in. She shoved him back out.

“No, Mama!” cried the cub as she kept blocking him. “I wanna stay with you! NO! _Please,_ Mama!”

 _“KIMBA!”_ shouted Eliza. _“GO! NOW!”_ She watched as sniffling, the cub stood and turned toward the door. Seeing his heart-broken face, Eliza’s fell as well. “Son,” she said, “I love… _you._ ”

“Me, too, Mama,” replied her son, and then he started up the stairs.

 _Panja,_ thought Eliza. _Protect our son. Guide him back home._


	3. Wheel of Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Eliza sings is “The River” from Prince of Egypt Inspirational, performed by CeCe Winans, written by Louis Brown III and Scott Shavoni Parker. Like I said, some parts of this were inspired by it, and I went overboard with it I think. I also fell into the trap of making Scar "innocent" when he's anything but in canon.

Scar’s thoughts swam, sad and devious, as he walked along a ledge, avoiding the oblivious pride. He kicked a discarded bone aside seconds before a cheery voice called out to him.

“Hey, Uncle Scar! Guess what!”

 _Creator, save me,_ thought Scar. Aloud he replied, “I _despise_ guessing games.”

“I’m gonna be King of Pride Rock,” said the Prince.

 _What was your first clue?_ “Oh, goody.”

“My dad just showed me the whole kingdom, and I’m gonna rule it all,” said Mufasa’s annoying clone. The cub looked out over the savannah and chuckled in a fashion very like his father. The sad truth was that Scar could not see his nephew as an individual person – he was merely an extension of his father.

“Yes, well, forgive me for not _leaping_ for joy. Bad back, you know.” Scar flopped down onto the rock, hoping that if he feigned sleep the brat would go away.

Much to his exasperation, the little monster climbed up on his shoulder. Once there, the cub fidgeted a little before he spoke. “Uncle Scar, when I’m King, what’ll that make you?”

“A monkey’s uncle,” replied Scar, his voice already bored.

The cub, however, laughed. “You’re so weird!” the Prince said affectionately, rolling off to lie beside him.

“You have no idea,” replied Scar, an idea forming in his head. “So, you’re father showed you the whole kingdom, did he?”

“ _Everything,”_ confirmed the cub.

“Even the rise beyond the northern border?” he asked, knowing Mufasa would never allow it. He was too prejudiced about the hyenas.

“Well, _no_ ,” he said, his facing falling. “He said I can’t go there.”

“I’m not surprised!” Scar replied. “Only the bravest lions go there. Nuka enjoys it quite a bit.”

“ _Nuka_ gets to go?” said the cub petulantly. “What’s out there?”

“I’m sorry, Simba, I just _can’t_ tell you. The nightmares you’d have!”

“I don’t scare that easy. _Please_ , Uncle Scar?” asked the Prince, looking up at him with a hopeful expression.

“Simba, Simba,” said Scar, rubbing the cub’s head. “I’m only looking out for the well-being of my favorite nephew.”

The Prince snorted. “Yeah, right; I’m your _only_ nephew.”

 _Only one recognized that’s still alive._ “All the more reason for me to be protecting you. An elephant graveyard is no place for the crown prince.” Scar feigned surprise, covering his mouth with a paw. “Oops!”

“An elephant _what_?” repeated the cub. _“Whoa.”_

“Oh, dear, I’ve said too much. Well, I suppose you’d have found out sooner or later, you and Nuka being so close and all. Just do me one favor: promise me you’ll never visit that place alone.”

The cub appeared to think this through, and saw the loophole Scar had deliberately gave him. “No problem.”

“There’s a good lad,” said Scar, waving the cub off. “Now you run along and have _fun_. And remember, it’s our little secret.” As the cub raced off, Scar grinned to himself. He was clearly headed to find his favorite cousin, and Nuka would know _just_ what to do.

Eliza stood staring at the door her son had just gone through, pain filling her entire body. The Empress realized that she shared a kinship with that human woman so long ago, the one in her son’s favorite story. She sang softly the words she felt that mother might have said.

Nuka crouched low in the tall grass, intent on his prey. His mother was long gone with the other lionesses of her hunting party. Of course, the _Queen’s_ party had already returned with their catch, and was now lounging at the back of Pride Rock. The dark brown cub pounced, his paws coming down on a field mouse. He grinned with delight. His mother often praised his hunting skills. He was about to dispatch it when he heard a twig snap behind him, and a familiar voice whisper, “Ow.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Nuka saw a gold tail sticking out of the grass moments before it disappeared. Then the whispering started again.

“Okay, stay low to the ground. Try not to make a sound. Boy, won’t Nuka be surprised.”

The dark cub rolled his eyes. _Puh-lease,_ he thought. _Just who does he think he’s kidding?_ As his cousin continued to stalk him, Nuka began to count. “Three,” he said under his breath. “Two, _one_.”

“HEY, NUKA!” shouted Simba, leaping out from the grass.

However, the dark cub ducked, sending the Prince rolling into the dirt where he landed ungraciously in a heap. Nuka laughed. “Aw,” he said in mocking voice. “Did ’ittle Simby-Whimpy fall down and hurt himself?”

“It’s not funny, Nuka!” snapped Simba, getting to his feet. “Just you wait! I’ll get you one day!”

Nuka snorted. “I am positively _shaking_ all over,” he said, smirking as he remembered his father the day of Simba’s presentation. “And you just made me lose my lunch.”

“Sorry,” replied the Prince.

This of course reminded Nuka of how he had been stepped on this morning. He growled. “What do want anyway, Simby? Don’t you have some princely duty to attend to?”

Simba sat down and looked a little lost for a moment, not that that was unusual. The cub had as much brains as a hyena, as his mother liked to say. And although his father usually defended the hyenas, he had to admit this was true. The Prince was a spoiled brat in many ways, overly coddled and protected. Would it really be such a bad thing if he had to depend on himself once in a while? Nuka sighed and started to leave.

“Hey, wait!” called Simba. “I – I wanted to ask you something.”

Nuka closed his eyes. “I just know I’m going to regret saying this, but what?”

“What’s it like in the Elephant Graveyard? Uncle Scar says you get to go there, but he wouldn’t tell me what it’s like.”

 _He told_ Simba _about that?_ Nuka thought. _But he said it was a secret, that the King would be mad if he found out. What’s he doing?_ “Why don’t you ask your Daddy?” he replied snidely, trying to mask his surprise.

“He wouldn’t tell me, he just said I can’t go there,” answered Simba, his face falling again.

 _Big surprise; the hyenas are starving and hold a grudge against the King for not letting them hunt…_ His thoughts trailed off, and an idea formed. _I wonder what they’d do if the Crown Prince suddenly showed up in their lands?_ “ _Sorry,_ Simby-Whimpy,” he said aloud. “It’s not the kind place you can describe. You have to see it for yourself.”

Simba’s eyes darted left and right. “Will you take me with you next time?” he asked in a stage whisper.

“Puh. You’d have nightmares for weeks.”

“I would not! I don’t scare that easily! C’mon, Nuka, please?”

Nuka laughed. “Didn’t you just say the King said you couldn’t go?”

Simba had already thought of that. “Well yeah,” he replied. “But once he sees how brave I am, he’ll be so proud of me that he’ll forget all about it.”

 _Idiot,_ thought the dark cub. _As if that would work._ He pretended to think it over, tapping his chin with a claw. “Well, I _suppose_ you could come with me today. But what will Nala and Mheetu do without you? You three are always together.” He held up is paw as if the thought just occurred to him. “Oh, I know! Why don’t you ask them to come along? I’m sure they’ll be very impressed when they see how brave you are and all.”

Simba’s eyes lit up, and he grinned. “That’s a great idea! Let’s go get them.”

Nuka pretended to be surprised. “We? Oh, no, no, Simba. I can’t go with you! Everyone will be suspicious – I mean, I usually hang out with the other cubs.” _The ones who won’t rule and will one day have to leave like me._ “And you’re always with them. You’ll have to go get them and we’ll meet up somewhere.”

Simba nodded as if this was the most logical thing in the world. “Okay, no problem. So where should we meet?”

A grin spread across Nuka’s face. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said, thinking of his father’s tale of when he met the hyenas. “How about the waterhole?”

“Got it! See you in a bit! Thanks, Nuka!”

“You’re welcome, Simby,” he replied, watching the golden cub run off to find his betrothed and her brother. “Very welcome indeed.”

Kimba wandered up on to the deck as the dark clouds rolled in. He dodged the humans, coming at last to the edge of the ship. The white lion cub looked out at the sea in awe.

“So this is an ocean,” he said to himself. “It’s awfully blue… and awfully _big_. It sure is a long way down.” He glanced back toward the door beyond which his mother remained. Squeezing his eyes shut, he prepared to jump. The sound of the approaching storm filled his ears as Kimba crouched on the deck of the ship. Only his mother’s words kept him from running. “Sink or swim,” he said, leaping into the air. “Here I go!”

The drop was longer and colder than he expected. The Jungle Prince sank into the water like a stone. All his hope seemed to die as the huge waves brought on by the storm tossed him around in circles. He closed his eyes in fear. _I can’t do it,_ he thought. _I can’t._ Then the memory of his mother’s face swam before his eyes. _NO!_ Kimba forced himself to the surface, then began paddling for all he was worth.

 _“Yes, I can!”_ said the cub firmly, and in that moment learned a lesson, one he would always remember: _Can’t_ was killed in the battle of _Try_.

Joey turned from the lifeboat as his uncle tried to guide him forward. A sudden thought struck him and he pulled away, snatching the keys from the captain as he did so. His uncle yelled after him but he kept going. _Eliza,_ he thought, _Kimba, and the other animals. They’ll drown._

The usually ajar door to the cargo hold had been torn off its hinges. The boy grabbed the doorframe and raced down the stairs. Water flooded over the sides of the ship, sending waves rushing across the deck and down the stairs. Joey clung to the railing to keep his footing. Crates and loose items floated in the rising water. Reaching the floor, he ran as fast as he could for the Empress’s cage.

Suddenly, the ship tilted sideways, sending the cages, crates, and other cargo sliding into the opposite wall. One stack slammed into Joey, knocking him hard into Eliza’s cage. He crashed to the floor, fighting the blackness hovering around his vision long enough to untie the pouch holding his pocket bible and toss it up onto one of the crates. Then everything went dark as his body slumped into the water.

Eliza’s eyes tightened. The boy she had come to care for went limp beside her as the storm was fully born. She could hear waves crash against the ship, and the other humans running as they tried to escape the fate she could not. The fate she prayed her son would not suffer. She softly continued her song as the water filled the ship.


	4. Journeys Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm legit cringing at the fact this is more of a shot-for-shot copy than the 2019 Lion King film.

Simba raced down the back of Pride Rock. He said a passing hello to Safi, Aina, and Diku as they watched the other cubs. Nuka’s sister Tama, Kula, and the brothers Tojo and Chumvi were engrossed in a game of tag with the birds he and Tojo had raised. Simba smiled at the memory. Nala might have been his best friend, but Tojo was a close second. Chumvi, on the other paw, would most likely _never_ like him, which just went to show how different siblings could be.

Speaking of siblings, he found Nala and Mheetu with their mother and his, lounging under a tree. Mheetu was a pale cub like Nala, but he had a black nose like Scar, and his paws were dark brown, making look as if he’d just ran through the mud, though at the moment though he was spotless, snickering at his sister as she took her bath.

Simba smiled. “Hey, Nala, Mheetu,” he called. “Afternoon, Mom, Aunt Sarafina.”

“So how was your time with your father?” asked Sarabi, smiling at her son from where she lay upon a rock.

“It was great. Dad showed me the whole kingdom, at least before he had to go run off some hyenas.”

“Oh, not again,” Sarafina replied, pausing a moment in bathing her daughter. “I wish they’d just learn to stay on their side of the border. They’re more trouble than an elephant stampede.”

“Did you get to see the hyenas?” asked Mheetu. “Did you give them what for, huh?”

Simba laughed. “Naw, Dad wouldn’t let me go with him. But Zazu says when I’m king, I can chase those slobbering, mangy, stupid –”

“Simba!” scolded his mother. “I think I need to have a word with Zazu if he’s teaching you such insults. While the hyenas may be a bit dense, they are still fellow creatures to be treated with respect.”

“But then why does Dad chase them off?”

Sarabi sighed. “He’ll explain it to you someday. Just keep in mind what I said.”

Simba rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mom,” he said before turning to Nala. “Come on, I just heard about this great place.”

Nala gave him a disbelieving look. “Simba, I’m kind of in the middle of _bath_.”

“And it’s time for yours,” chimed in Sarabi.

Simba saw it coming and scrambled to get away, but he wasn’t fast enough. His mother scooped him up and proceeded to give him a quick cleaning. “Mom!” complained Simba as Mheetu fell over laughing. “Mom, you’re messing up my mane!”

“What mane?” The look his mother gave him said louder than words.

Simba pulled away, and, extending his claws, roughly straightened the tuft of hair at the top of his head. “Okay, okay, I’m clean! Can we go now?”

“So where are we going?” asked Nala. “It’d better not be anyplace dumb.”

“Yeah,” said Mheetu, laughing again. “Like when you followed her and Tama into that valley!”

“Shut up!” snapped Simba. “No, it’s really cool.”

“And just where is this ‘really cool’ place?” asked his mother, crossing her paws with a slight grin.

“Oh.” Simba thought for a minute. He didn’t want to lie. Then he came up with something that was _technically_ true. “Around the waterhole.”

“The waterhole!?” said Nala indignantly, rolling over to face him.

Mheetu scoffed, “What’s so great about the waterhole?”

Simba gave his mother a forced grin before he shoved over to them and said pointedly, “I’ll _show_ you when we _get_ there.”

“Ooh,” the siblings replied, thankfully getting the hint. “Mom, can we go with Simba?”

Sarafina looked at them in disbelief. “Now?” she asked. “But you’ve just had your baths! Plus I’m not sure it’s safe, with the hyenas roaming around. What do you think, Sarabi?”

“Well…” replied his mother, drawing out the word.

All three cubs turned and said with Cheshire cat grins, _“Pleeease?”_

Sarabi smiled. “It’s all right with me,” she began, but the cubs cheering interrupted her. As they started to run off, she called, “As long as Zazu goes with you.”   
The cubs froze and looked at each other with horror-struck faces.

“Oh, no,” Simba groaned. “Not _Zazu_!”

Kimba, still clinging to the bit of driftwood he had latched onto, slowly became aware the gale had stopped. He glanced around, noting the calm waters and the miscellaneous items floating about him. The storm was over. Desperately he looked for some sign of the ship, but there was nothing there. Then he caught sight of something floating on a crate nearby.

“It’s the book!” he cried, swimming over to it just in time to save the drawstring pouch from sliding into the water. He climbed up on the crate and stared at it for a moment. “It _is_ the book. Then that means the ship…”

Realization dawned on him, and the Jungle Prince began to weep. _Mother!_ Kimba thought, his heart breaking. _Joey! NO!_ Tears staining his white coat, the cub curled up around the bible and cried himself to sleep.

Nuka was doodling in the dirt with a claw when Simba, Nala, and Mheetu arrived at the waterhole under the watchful eyes of Zazu. He got up and greeted them with feigned warmth.

“Fancy meeting you here!” said the dark cub, sweeping aside his drawings with his tail. “What’s happening, Simby? Nala, you are lovely as ever. And Mheetu, you little shrimp, you’re twice the size I remember, did you have a growth spurt?” Nuka gritted his teeth when the tawny cub puffed out his chest, glowing in the praise.

“Maybe,” he replied. “What cha doing here, Nuka?”

“Yes, Simba,” said Nala, glaring at the dark cub, who just grinned as he pictured her demise. “Why is _he_ here?”

“Well,” said Simba. “Nuka and I were talking and he said he’d show us this great place I heard about.”

“Simba! Are you nuts?” she said loudly. “Since when does Nuka want to do something for us besides get us in trouble?”

“I swear, Nala, I’m a changed lion. No more tricks, I promise. C’mon, and I’ll show you what I mean.” Nuka lead them a few feet off before he turned around and glared at Simba. “I don’t remember inviting Banana Beak over there,” he hissed.

Simba gulped. “It’s Mom’s fault, she insisted he tag along.”

All the cubs glanced up at Zazu, who was settling down on a branch. When she was sure the bird was distracted, Nala voiced the obvious question in a whisper. “So where are we _really_ going?”

“An elephant graveyard,” replied Nuka, keeping his voice low.

“Wow!” said Mheetu, a delighted look on his face.

The other cubs hissed. “Mheetu, shh! Zazu!”

“Right.” He nodded. “So how are we gonna ditch the dodo?”

This set off a whispered discussion, throughout which the dark cub was thoroughly bored. Ideas were voiced and discarded so fast he could barely keep up.

Then Nala had a brainstorm. “I know what we can do!” she whispered excitedly. “If we run through the herds, he won’t be able to follow!”

“Brilliant!” said Simba.

Nuka blinked. Perhaps Nala had some of Scar in her, after all: The brains, at least.

“Well, well,” said Zazu suddenly, making them all jump as he landed in front of them. “Just look at you all telling secrets. Most of all you two.” He nodded at Simba and Nala. “Your parents will be thrilled, what with your being betrothed and all.”

“Be-what?” replied Simba and Nala in unison.

Nuka snickered, seeing what was coming.

“Betrothed,” Zazu repeated. “Intended, affianced.”

“Meaning?” asked Mheetu.

“One day these two are going to be married!” Nuka said with a grin. “You didn’t know?”

“Yuck! Eww!” cried Simba and Nala, twin faces of disgust.

Mheetu burst out laughing. “Married!” he said between giggles. “Oh, that’s perfect! Simba and Nala, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes –”

“Shut up!” snapped Simba. “I can’t marry her, she’s my friend.”

“Yeah,” said Nala, “It’d be too weird.”

“You got no choice,” Nuka told them with a smirk. “It’s a tradition going back generations.”

“Well, when I’m King that’ll be the first thing to go,” replied Simba.

“Not so long as I’m around,” Zazu chimed in.

“Well, in that case: you’re fired,” the gold cub said.

“Nice try,” countered Zazu. “But only the King can do that.”

 _And only a spoiled brat would say something like that,_ added Nuka mentally. _Dad’s right, he’s just like Uncle Mufasa._

“He’s the _future_ king,” said Nala.

“Yeah,” said Simba, poking Zazu in the chest, “so you have to do what I tell you.”

“Not yet I don’t!” said the hornbill folding his wings. “And with attitude like that, you’re shaping up to be a pretty poor king indeed.”

“Look, let’s just forget about it for now,” said Nuka, not liking how much he was agreeing with the bird. “Let’s play that game Nala wanted to play. _Remember,_ Nala?”

“Oh, right,” said the pale cub. “Hey, Simba! Tag, you’re it!”

The cubs ducked and dodged across the savannah, in and out of the herds until they finally lost sight of the majordomo. They stopped to rest in the shade of an old tree, out of breath but pleased.

“I can’t believe that worked,” said Nuka, smiling for real this time. “We lost him!”

“I,” said Simba, “am a genius.”

Nala froze and glared at him. “Hey, genius, it was _my_ idea!”

“Yeah,” the prince replied in a cocky tone. “But _I_ pulled it off!”

“With me,” she said firmly.

Mheetu and Nuka rolled their eyes.

“You sure they ain’t married already?” asked the tawny cub.

Nuka nodded. “But they sure act like it, don’t they?”

They laughed as Simba pounced on Nala, only to be flipped on his back. The look on his face was priceless.

“Pinned ya,” Nala said, laughing with them.

“Let me up!”

The pale cub obliged, but as she turned away Simba pounced on her a second time. They rolled over an incline and down a steep hill.

Mheetu looked slight anxious as he leaned over the edge. Nuka sighed and shoved him over it, sliding down after him. They touched the bottom just as Simba and Nala landed a few feet away. Mheetu laughed as soon as he saw them.

The golden cub was once more on his back, with Nala on top of him. She smirked. “Pinned ya _again._ ”

The water gently lapped against the crate as Kimba came awake. He could have sworn he had heard someone calling. Sitting up, he looked around; all he saw was water and more water. “Who’s there?” he asked. Finally he caught sight of a small boat heading his way, Joey’s uncle paddling it along. The priest yelled his nephew’s name once more. “Father John!” Kimba replied.

John turned at the cub’s cry, maneuvering his craft alongside the crate. His eyes filled with tears the moment he saw the pouch Kimba clutched tightly in his paws. He lifted both the cub and bag into his arms with gentle hands, cradling Kimba close.

“I’m so sorry, Father John,” said the white cub, despite the fact John couldn’t understand. He licked the man’s face in sympathy. A shout behind them startled both cub and priest, and Kimba found himself shoved inside Father John’s robes.

“Be quiet, little one,” whispered John as he turned and replied to voice’s source. “You can call off the search, Captain. God has taken my nephew home.”

Kimba stayed still as the priest and captain spoke, not moving until Father John released him onto his bed in a cheap motel.

“Joey always said that you belonged in the jungle,” said Father John, stroking the pouch in his hand. “God willing, I’m going to get you there.”


	5. The Elephant Graveyard

Simba looked slightly cross. But before he could say a word one of the geysers went off a few feet away. The other cubs gasped as Nuka rolled his eyes. He sauntered past them and led the way up a short rise.

“Welcome,” he said dramatically, “to the shadowy terrain beyond the Pride Lands. I present to you, the Elephant Graveyard.”

Mheetu looked around worriedly. “This is it?” he asked, his voice a little shaky.

“We made it!” said Simba, “Isn’t it great?”

Simba and Nala walked over a slight rise to the tusk of near-by skull. They gasped in amazement, taking in the scenery.

“Uh, I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” said Mheetu, glancing around in horror.

Nala, however, was looking at the skull. “I wonder if its brains are still in there.”

“It’s creepy,” complained Mheetu. “I want to go home!”

“Oh, stop being a big baby, Mud-paws,” said Nuka, slapping him with his tail as he joined the others.

Mheetu growled. “Look who’s talking, Dirt-fur! I just have a feeling this place is dangerous.”

“Mheetu, relax,” said Simba. “Walk on the wild side. Laugh in the face of danger. Ha ha ha!”

The familiar crazed laughter of his father’s friends echoed from the inside of the skull. Simba gasped and ran away, leaping behind not only Mheetu, but Nala as well. Nuka chucked silently as the three hyenas walked out into the open. They approached with nonchalance while the others shook. As usual, the leader was the first to speak.

“Well, well, well, Banzi, what have we got here?”

“I don’t know, Shenzi,” he replied. “What do you think, Ed?”

The only answer was demented laughter.

“Yeah, just what I was thinkin’ – a trio of trespassers.”

Nuka groaned. _Please let them think those idiots can’t count!_

“It – It was an accident, really!” said Mheetu, surprising the dark cub, “just a little case mistaken directions.” The tawny cub shoved at Simba and his sister, in an obvious attempt to leave before anything happened.

Shenzi reached out with a paw and knocked him over, sending him tumbling into the other two. Her eyes narrowed. “You three stink like Mufasa,” she snapped. “You related or something?”

Nuka took that moment to speak up. “My cousin, his friends, and I were just leaving,” he said, nudging Simba upright. “Though I’ll be sure to tell Uncle Mufasa you said hello.”

Banzi blinked stupidly. “I know you,” he said. “You’re Scar’s kid.”

“So what if I am?” he replied, trying to play it off. If even one of the cubs survived, he would have to explain why they knew him.

Shenzi circled them until she was nose to nose with Simba. “And that would make you…”

“The future king,” replied the arrogant prince.

“Do you know what we do to kings that step outta their kingdom?”

“Puh. You can’t do anything to me.”

 _Idiot,_ thought Nuka. Aloud he said, “Yes, they can. This is _their_ land.”

“So? Zazu said they’re nothing –” Nala and Mheetu began making gestures for him to stop; he ignored them, “– but slobbering, mangy, stupid poachers!”

“Ex-nay on the oopid-stay!” the siblings hissed.

“And just who you callin’ oopid-stay?” demanded Banzi.

“Well, would you look at the sun,” said Mheetu, giving the hyenas a smooth grin. “We really have to be going.”

Shenzi darted in front of the cubs before they could run. “What’s your hurry? We’d _love_ to have you stick around for dinner.”

“Yeah,” said Banzi, getting in on the act. “We can have whatever’s _lion_ around.”

The hyenas laughed hysterically, rolling over. While they were sidetracked, Simba, Nala, and Mheetu slunk away. Nuka just sat down and looked at them with disgust.

“Ooh,” said Shenzi. “I got one! I got one! Make mine a _cub_ sandwich, what cha think?”

Nuka rolled his eyes. “Say, you order this dinner to go?” he asked drolly.

“No, why?”

“Because,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder with a paw. “There it goes!”

“Did we lose them?” asked Nala as they came to a panting stop some distance away.

“I think so,” replied Simba, then he looked around. “Wait! Where’re Nuka and Mheetu?”

The cubs turned and ran back to find a handful of others had joined the original three. They watched in repulsion as the hyenas chased Mheetu around in a circle, toying with him.

Outraged, Simba leaped up on a ribcage with Nala close behind. “Hey!” he shouted, getting their attention at once. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

“Like… _you_?” asked Shenzi.

“Oops.”

Nuka watched in coldly as the trio took off after his cousin and his friend. Mheetu tried to follow but the remaining hyenas fenced him in. The dark cub smiled as, still fighting for all he was worth, the tawny cub found his way into the hyenas’ stomachs. With Mheetu’s dying screams still echoing in his ears, Nuka turned and left. If he went and got the King, maybe he would get lucky and kill two birds with one stone.

Simba panted heavily as he and Nala just managed to keep ahead of the trio. The gold cub crested over a pile of bones and stopped to catch his breath. Suddenly he heard Nala scream his name. He spun around and saw her sliding down the bones, Shenzi just behind her. Pure fury gripped the prince, and he charged down the mound of bones. Just as the hyena opened her mouth, Simba struck her full in the face with his claws. Nala scrambled past him and they took off as fast as they could.

They ran down a wide canyon and came at last to a high cliff. Above them was a ridge. They climbed atop another ribcage and leapt for the edge. Try as they might they couldn’t catch hold of it. Abruptly the bit of hide covering the bones gave way, and they dropped down in the cage just in time to see the trio walking towards them.

“Here, kitty kitty,” snarled Banzi.

Simba gulped, but stepped in front of Nala. He opened his mouth. “Rrr rrr ROWL!”

The hyenas laughed. “That was _it_? Do it again, tell me.”

Simba tried again, and this time a loud roar echoed off the canyon walls. The prince looked around, knowing _he_ hadn’t done that.

Then the most welcome sight Simba had ever seen came into view: his father pounced down on the hyenas, growling with rage. They whined and pleaded, and in the end bolted into the distance. Simba saw Zazu land beside the King, who looked at him with a stern glare.

Swallowing hard, the gold cub trotted up to him. “Dad, I –” he began.

“You deliberately disobeyed me,” said Mufasa in a harsh, but level tone.

“Dad, I – I’m sorry!”

“Let’s go home!”

“But, Uncle Mufasa,” said Nala, “we have to find Mheetu and Nuka!”

“Scar is searching as we speak,” replied Mufasa, “and the sooner you two are safe the sooner I can help him.”

As they walked away from the graveyard, Nala whispered. “ _I_ thought you were very brave.”


	6. Consequences

Zazu flew between the cubs and the King as they walked back to Pride Rock, and visibly jolted when the King called him, breaking the silence that had surrounded them. “Yes, sire?” the bird replied warily.

“Take Nala home,” Mufasa commanded. “I have to teach my son a lesson.”

Simba hid in the grass. He watched Nala and the bird leave before his father called his name. As he obeyed, he stumbled into a slight depression in the earth – his father’s paw print. His own paw did not even fill half. The golden cub gulped and sat beside his father.

For a long moment, Mufasa was silent. “Simba, I’m very disappointed in you.”

“I know,” whispered the cub sadly.

“You deliberately disobeyed me. And what’s worse, you put the others’ lives in danger.”

“Shouldn’t we be going home, so you can help Uncle Scar look for Mheetu and Nuka?”

“Nuka came home long ago, and told me where you all were. He was frantic with worry, especially as he –” The King took a deep breath as if the words were hard to say. “– as he saw Mheetu killed.”

 _“Killed?”_ repeated Simba, his face horror-struck. “NO!”

“What were you thinking, Simba? Did you honestly believe I would be proud of you for this?”

Simba started to sob, realizing just how foolish he had been, and seeing Nuka had told his father everything he said. “I – I was just trying to be brave like you,” he said, his voice cracking.

“I’m only brave when I have to be. Being brave doesn’t mean you go _looking_ for trouble.”

“But you’re not scared of anything.”

“I was today.”

Simba looked up at his father in disbelief. “Really?”

“Yes. I thought I might lose you.”

“So even Kings get scared sometimes?”

Mufasa nodded.

Simba sat there thoughtfully for a moment. “Dad?” he asked. “We’re pals, right?”

Mufasa chuckled. “Right.”

“And we’ll always be together, right?”

“Simba, let me tell you something my father told me – look at the stars. The Great Kings of the Past look down on us from those stars. So remember, whenever you feel alone, those kings will always be there to guide you. And so will I.”

“But what will happen to Mheetu?” asked the cub, pain filling his voice again. “Where will he go?”

“There is a place in the sky for all the Creator’s children, Simba. Mheetu is somewhere where no pain can ever reach him again. And I’m sure that my brother will look after him.”

“Uncle Scar?” asked Simba, slightly confused.

“I have two other siblings, a white brother and sister.”

Simba thought for a minute. He could dimly remember a white lion’s face when he was very young. “You mean the white lion I saw as a cub?”

“Yes, the day of your presentation. His name was Panja, my son. He came a great distance just to see you. His mate, Eliza, has a child by now, too. I wish you could have known him. I have heard that he told Eliza to name his son Kimba. I wish with all my heart for the two of you to meet, though it will most likely never occur. But should you ever see the son of Panja, know this: You can trust him. He will never steer you wrong. The white lions are the wisest of all.”

“Really?” said Simba in wonder. “Why?”

“I will tell you another day. Your mother will be worried. Come on, let’s go home.”

Nala sighed with relief when she saw her mother and Nuka. She ran right up to Sarafina and nuzzled her leg. “Nuka, thank goodness you’re okay,” she said to the dark cub. “Where’s Mheetu?”

Nuka’s face fell. He looked at his paws. “There’s no easy way to tell you this,” he replied. “He’s dead, Nala. The hyenas killed him. I saw the whole thing, but I couldn’t get there in time to save him. I’m so sorry.”

Nala’s jaw dropped. Pain filled her eyes as she sunk to the ground. “No,” she whispered. “No!”

Sarafina nuzzled her daughter as both their eyes filled with tears.

Zira strode forward until she was standing in front of the pale cub. “Nala,” she said in an almost tender voice, “you must be exhausted… as you’ve _killed your own brother_!”

Nala’s eyes widened seconds before her mother crouched over her. “That’s enough!” said Sarafina. “You keep away from my daughter, Zira. She’s been through enough without your harsh words.”

Zira’s expression softened. “My apologies, Sarafina. I just _know_ I would have been devastated if I lost my Nuka. However, the child knows no better. I am deeply sorry for you loss, Nala. Forgive me.”

However, Nala was not listening to Zira anymore. She was watching the King and his son approach. Raw fury consumed her. She was not responsible for her brother’s death, but she knew who was.

Simba just barely had time to see Nala and Nuka standing with their mothers before the pale cub launched herself at him. He cried out both in surprise and pain as she sank her claws and teeth into whatever part of him she could reach. The prince fell back, unable to react beyond that.

“This is your fault!” Nala shouted. “Mheetu’s dead because of _you_ – you and your stupid plan to go to that place! It’s all your fault!”

Simba felt like he’d been burned. She had done nothing but voice the very thoughts echoing in his head. He hardly noticed when his father pulled them apart.

Mufasa held Nala back with a paw. “Nala, stop this! That is no way to behave. You can’t tell him anything he doesn’t know himself.”

“Oh, yes, I can!” Nala yelled, pulling away from the King and glaring at Simba. She growled. “I _hate_ you! I’ll never forgive you for this! I never want to see you again! I wish you were DEAD!”

The pride watched in stunned silence as Nala rushed into the cave, sobbing, and left Simba staring after her. Scar’s appearance moments later was a welcome distraction.

“I am sorry, Fina,” the dark lion said. “I was unable to find the scoundrels or his remains.”

The word _remains_ brought the events home as nothing else could. Simba sat frozen as his uncle addressed the assembled lions.

Nala lay in her corner of the cave and cried. Sure, Mheetu had been a pest, but he was _her_ pest. Still, she could not completely block out Scar’s eulogy. He seemed to feel exactly the way she did.

“Mheetu was a boisterous cub – full of life and energy. At times, his zest for living could try the patience of a saint, but even so, we loved him. To have his future stolen in such a manner is a crime; one that I will never forgive those scoundrels for. If our Mheetu’s murderers ever came across my path, I would slay them where they stood. Oh, our Creator – take our lost cub into Your loving embrace and protect him.”

Simba barely looked up as Nuka and the other cubs started over to him. Suddenly Zira’s voice rang out.

“Nuka! Get away from him. Despite his age, he appears to be a bad influence on you. Until the Prince matures, I forbid you to play with him.” The angular lioness looked over at Mufasa. “Like father, like son. Come now! It’s time you were in bed.” She picked his cousin up in her mouth and carried him away, Tama trailing her as they followed his uncle into the cave.

Much to Simba’s chagrin, the other mothers followed suit, leading their cubs aside and inside. Heartbroken, Simba followed his parents and curled up beside his mother. He stole a glance at Nala, but she refused to look at him. Unable to hide how much it hurt, the Pride Rock Prince cried himself to sleep.

Not far away in an old tree, Rafiki stood before his latest painting. Word had finally reached him of Kimba’s birth. With a smile upon his face, he painted both princes side by side. The future was secure.


	7. Deception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that recreates the Gorge Scene, and "The Wind in the Desert" scene from Kimba. Both include character deaths. This is a warning if you wish to skip them.

It was surprising how few people checked the baggage of a man of the cloth. Father John managed to find a real missionary group heading to a village several days journey from Kimba’s homeland. The priest and cub accompanied the group as far as a village, and no one questioned that he took his meals alone. Whatever meat or fish he got Father John gave to Kimba. Once they reached the village, however, John bought a grubstake off the villagers and headed for the jungle. Days later they were hopelessly lost in the desert, and quickly running out of water.

Father John feigned a drink from the last canteen, and then poured some into a bowl for Kimba. “Here you go, boy. Drink up.” He watched the cub lap up the precious liquid without regret. Joey had given his life for this cub, and he would not let his sacrifice be in vain. After the bowl was empty, he pushed himself up with his staff and they continued on.

They finally caught a break around noon. The priest said a relieved prayer when he caught sight of an old well. It took all his strength to draw a single bucket from its depths. He smiled as the cub happily drank his fill before collapsing against the stone wall.

Kimba immediately was at his side, nuzzling him in obvious concern. The cub mewed in a questioning fashion.

“I’m all right,” the priest lied. “I just need to lie here and rest a minute.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out Joey’s pouch. “But why don’t you hold on to this for me, ok?” Kimba’s eyes met his as he tied the pouch around the cub’s neck. John stroked the cub as he curled up at his side before closing his eyes for the last time. _God protect you, little one._

“Now you wait here,” Scar told his nephew. “Your father has a _marvelous_ surprise for you.”

“Ooh, what is it?”

Scar sighed. “If I told you it wouldn’t be a _surprise_ , now would it?”

“If you tell me, I’ll still _act_ surprised,” said the cub with a Cheshire cat grin.

“No-no-no-no! This is just for you and your _Daddy_.” _Who you are too much like_ , the dark lion added mentally. “You know, a sort of father-son… thing. Well, I’d better go get him!”

It took little to convince Mufasa’s clone to stay put – a less-than subtle reminder of the hyena incident did the trick. “Oh, and just between us,” Scar said as put a paw across the cub’s shoulder and pulled him close. “You might to work on that little roar of yours, hmm?”

“Ok.”

But just when the dark lion thought he would get away, the cub asked one more question. “Hey, Uncle Scar! Will I like the surprise?”

“Simba, it’s to _die_ for.”

The elder Pride Rock Prince climbed up the ledge where his mate and son were waiting. Scar smiled. “You know what to do – _go!_ ”

Simba lay on the rock under the tree after his uncle left, muttering to himself. He crossed his paws and sighed.

“You heard him, _Simby-Whimpy_ ,” a too-familiar voice called from the tree branches above him. “Better practice that roar.”

He looked up to see his dark cousin leap down next to him. “What are you doing here, Nuka?” snapped Simba. He still hadn’t forgiven the other cub; while it might have been _his_ idea to visit the Graveyard, it had been Nuka’s to take Nala and Mheetu. “I thought your Mommy said not to play with me anymore.”

“Unlike some people, I don’t always do what my parents say. But c’mon, I want to hear this roar of yours.”

“It’s not like _you_ can roar, either.”

In answer, Nuka let out a loud cry that reverberated off the rocks around them. He smirked at Simba.

“ _Puh._ I can do that.” Glaring at him, Simba opened his mouth. “Rrrow. Rrrrow.”

Nuka fell over laughing. “Oh! Stop, stop! I’m gonna wet my fur!”

Simba growled and leaped off the rock, letting out the loudest cry he could manage. It echoed off the canyon walls. Smiling and feeling rather proud of himself, he turned around.

“See, Nuka? I told you I could –” It was then that he noticed his cousin had vanished. “Nuka? NUKA?”

High above the Pride Rock Prince a herd of wildebeests grazed under the watchful eyes of the hyena trio. Banzi’s stomach growled for the hundredth time. Shenzi growled at him.

“Aw, can’t I just pick off one of the little sick ones?”

“NO! We wait for the signal, ok?”

Just then, the angular form of Zira appeared on a ledge above the gorge. Shenzi and her brothers smiled.

“Let’s _go_.”

“Nuka!” called Simba, walking slowly down the length of the gorge. He let out another “roar” and smiled as the sound echoed again. Then he looked down and saw the small pebbles jumping around on the ground. He looked toward a loud rumbling in the distance to see a _huge_ herd of wildebeests rushing into the canyon. His jaw dropped. _Oh, no!_

Simba spun around and took off running.

Meanwhile near the gorge, Scar had joined Mufasa and his steward on what had become his daily walks around the kingdom. Surprised but thrilled, the Lion King babbled on and on about how he had missed his company. Scar kept the friendly grin in place by reminding himself he wouldn’t be dealing with his egotistic brother much longer.

Just then, Nuka came running up to them, panting. “Dad! Uncle Mufasa! You have to hurry! Oh, man, I told him not to go down there.”

Scar wanted to praise the cub’s acting skills. He was a natural. “What is going on, son?” he asked, though he knew full well what his son was talking about. “Slow down so we can understand you.”

Still panting, Nuka elaborated. “Stampede… in the gorge. Simba’s down there!”

Mufasa’s stunned expression was priceless. “Simba?” he repeated.

Then the four of them were rushing to the gorge, Zazu flying on ahead presumably to find the brat.

Simba franticly scrambled up a dead tree. He rushed out onto a branch and clung to it as tightly as he could. _Oh,_ why _didn’t I listen to Uncle Scar and stay put?_ At that moment, a familiar shape flew out of the dust. Simba exhaled with relief. “Zazu!” he yelled. “Help me!”

“Your father’s on the way,” replied the hornbill. “Hold on!”

The words were a lifeline and Simba clung to them as tightly as he did the branch. Then his grip began to slip. “Hurry!”

Scar, Mufasa and Nuka slid down to one of the lower ledges and the dark lions at least feigned scanning the herd for some sign of the cub.

Then Zazu flew up to them, his wings beating rapidly as he struggled to stay airborne. He pointed to an old dead tree in the center of the gorge. “There!” he yelled. “He’s there on that tree!”

“Hold on, Simba!” Mufasa rushed into the mass of moving animals just as one member of the herd crashed into the old tree and sent Simba flying into the air. The Lion King only just managed to snag his son midair.

The dark lions could scarcely enjoy it. Zazu fluttered around their heads squawking like a parrot. Scar narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, this is _awful!_ ” cried the bird. “What’ll we do what’ll we _do_? I'll go back for help, that's what I'll do; I'll go back for –” The bird was out cold seconds after Nuka back-pawed him straight into the side of the canyon.

Smiling, Scar ordered his son to take the unconscious bird back to Pride Rock.

Nuka nodded, “Bye-bye, cousin,” he said as he looked back over his shoulder. He picked up Zazu in his mouth before climbing back up the cliff.

Alone at last, Scar stalked the edge of the gorge waiting for just the right moment. He watched, his face impassive, as his brother struggled to get his son to safety. In the end, the gold lion managed to set the cub on a ledge, only to have the press of the herd knock him back into the mass of animals.

“DAD!” cried Simba, watching in horror as his father was swept under the hurrying creatures. His eyes franticly scanned the stampede, and he sighed with relief as his father broke free and launched himself onto a steep incline. Simba then turned and started up the side of the gorge, eager to meet his father once he reached the top.

Scar watched as his brother made his slippery progress up to the ledge below him. The Lion King’s paws scrambled for a hold, but he was quickly losing his grip. Then the gold lion looked up and saw him. _“SCAR!”_ he yelled. “Brother! Help me!”

For one moment, he saw Mufasa again as the brother he had adored; in that split second, he loved him again. _But that lion is already gone_ , Scar thought, angry with himself. He pushed aside the sentimental feelings and lunged, digging his claws into his brother’s forelegs. The sound of the pain-filled roar brought no joy.

Still, he smiled, knowing that soon the Pride Lands would be free of his brother’s tyrannical rule. Mufasa’s eyes widened in fear as the dark lion leaned close enough to whisper in his ear. _“Long live the King.”_ Then Scar ripped Mufasa’s claws from the rock, throwing him backwards down into the gorge. His screams echoed in the air.

Simba reached the top of the gorge just in time to see his father falling back down into the stampede. The cub, unable to understand the sudden change, cried out in denial. _“NOOO!”_

As the dust settled, Simba made his way back down into the gorge. Coughing on the clouds still swirling across the ground, he called for his father as he slowly wandered down the canyon. A slight noise caught his attention and he turned toward it. “Dad?” he asked quietly.

But it wasn’t Mufasa, not really. A straggler of the herd jogged slowly down the canyon and around a broken tree as he watched. Under this tree lay a familiar form. Simba rushed over to his father.

“Dad?” asked Simba softly. There was no answer. “Dad, come on. You gotta get up.” Frantically the cub shoved at his father’s mane, but still… nothing. His head just flopped back to the earth. “Dad. We gotta go home.”

Frightened, and not quite willing to believe the truth, Simba ran off a few feet away. _“HELP!”_ he cried, not knowing what else to do. His voice echoed hollowly off the canyon walls. “Somebody! Anybody... help.”

Slowly, the reality sank in, and Simba started to cry. Sadly, the Pride Rock Prince turned back to his father’s body and nudged his way under Mufasa’s foreleg. Then he lay his head on his paws and let the tears flow. They stained his fur as he thought through every memory of his father: every moment, every lesson, and every game. Not one second was lost in this trip down memory lane. At last, he thought about just how he was going to go on. Silently, he spoke the questions to his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "If Only Tears Could Bring You Back" - Midnight Sons is the song Simba "sings" here.


	8. Shattered Hearts

He would be lying to himself if Scar did not admit that the sight of his nephew lying in the embrace of his father’s body brought a slight twinge of sympathy. But the dark lion had already slipped once; he would maintain his composure even now. Besides, Mufasa and his clone would soon be reunited in any case. “Simba,” he whispered. “What have you done?”

The cub scrambled to his feet. “There were all these wildebeests… he tried to save me. It was an accident! I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Of course, of course you didn’t,” said Scar, sitting beside him and pulling the weeping cub closer. “No one ever means for these things to happen. But the King is dead, and if it weren’t for you he’d still be alive.”  
The cub hid his face against the dark lions foreleg, crying.

“Oh!” add Scar as if the thought had just occurred to him. “What will your mother think?”

“What am I going to do?” the cub asked in a frightened voice.

“Run away, Simba! Run! Run away and never return.”

Obviously heart-broken and lost, the cub turned and raced up the length of the canyon. Slowly, the hyenas joined Scar as he watched the Prince race away.

“Kill him,” ordered Scar firmly, waiting until they had raced off before he stood. Then he turned toward Pride Rock.

Banzi smiled gleefully as he and the others chased after the frightened Prince. The cub scrambled up the ledges and through cracks as he tried to escape. Finally they had him cornered at the edge of a high ledge, only to have the cub leap over it. The trio followed, watching as the cub tumbled down the cliff. Only when he crashed into a briar patch below did Banzi try to stop. He skidded to a stop just short of the brambles, only to have his brother and sister crash into him and send him flying into the thorns.

“YOWL!” shouted the hyena, to the laughter of his siblings. Wincing, Banzi climbed back up onto the ledge, avoiding Shenzi and Ed.

Just then, his sister spotted the Prince racing off into the desert. “Oh!” she said. “There he goes! There he goes!”

“So go get him!” snapped Banzi, yanking out a few of the thorns.

“Ain’t no way I’m goin’ in there! What, you want me to come out lookin’ like _you_ , cactus butt?”

“But we gotta finish the job!”

His sister as she scanned the desert landscape. “Well, he’s as good as dead out there anyway. And _if_ he comes back, we’ll kill him.”

“Yeah, ya hear that?” he shouted after the cub. “If you ever come back, we’ll kill ya!”

Laughing, the trio turned back toward Pride Rock.

The Jungle Prince shivered in the night air as he lay beside his friend. He could not bring himself to move. He had never felt so alone.

 _“Kimba,”_ said a voice above him. _“Kimba my son.”_

He looked up at the stars. To his surprise, they shifted and formed a pair of lions, one of which looked very familiar. “Mother!” cried the white cub, joy filling him.

The starry version of Eliza smiled, as did the lion beside her. _“Son,”_ said the lion. _“Your mother and I are so proud of you. But you still have a long way to go.”_

Kimba nodded. “How do I get home? Will you lead me?”

 _“There is only so much we can do,”_ replied his mother. _“But listen carefully. You see those stars – the ones that look like a lion?”_

“Yes,” replied the cub.

_“Follow those stars, my son. They will lead you home. Go as fast as you can, Kimba. You will be needed very soon.”_

Kimba got to his feet and took a single step forward before looking back at the priest. “But what about Father John?”

 _“His circle has ended, Kimba,_ replied Eliza gently. _“And he did all he could to see yours would not. He is with those he lost.”_

Tears fell as the cub understood. “Thank you, Father John,” he whispered. His paw touched the pouch, feeling the bible rest against his heart. He raced off into the night as the starry spirits faded away. “Mama, Papa, Joey, Father John, I promise: I won’t let you down!”

“Mufasa’s death is a terrible tragedy. But to lose Simba, who had barely begun to live…” Nala couldn’t stand it. How could Simba be gone? Crying, she leaned into her mother’s leg and tried not to hear what Scar was saying. “For me, it is a deep, massive loss. So it is with a heavy heart that I assume the throne.”

As Scar continued, a sound she had never expected to hear at Pride Rock reached her ears. Surely, she couldn’t be hearing that sickly laughter.

“But out of the ashes of this tragedy, we shall rise and greet the dawning of a new era – in which lion and hyena come together for a great and glorious future.”

The whole pride gasped as the pack crested the rise at the back of Pride Rock. Nala glanced at the other cubs to see their faces all held the same disbelief and horror as he own.

Leona, denned down in the now-abandoned shrine, hung her head as soon as the news reached her. Bubu had ruined the Jungle; now Scar would destroy the Pride Lands. He may mean well, but she knew that darkness lingered in her brother. Leona was the only one who had asked her uncle Kali why he avoided Scar, so she was the only one who knew of the Spirit’s warning. Now it seemed it was coming true. The white lioness wept.

In his tree, Rafiki wiped away his tears and glanced at his painting of Kimba and Simba. Word of the wreck of Eliza’s ship had reached him almost at the same moment as Mufasa and Simba’s death. Sadly, the baboon placed his hand on the bark. Then, with a gesture of finality, he ran his hand across it, smearing the painting.


	9. Out of the Wasteland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aka the first chapter in "When Kimba Meets Simba".

“The jungle’s gotta be around here somewhere,” said the white lion cub as he slowly trudged along the desert landscape. From his neck hung a drawstring pouch containing the only connection he had left to his mother Eliza and his human friend Joey: a small pocket bible. It had belonged to his friend, who had read it to him for as long as he could remember. It held all kinds of stories about humans that the Creator aided. His mother had told him the Creator would help him, too. _Well, NOW would be a good time._

 _K_ imba sighed as a fierce wind ripped around him. It tugged and pulled him forward, then suddenly died away. When he looked up, he saw a mass of black shapes moving in the distance. They seemed to all be huddled around something. Kimba titled his head to the side.

“What’s that?” He ran over to the black mass and found it formed of half a dozen vultures. They were pecking and nipping at something that smelled like him and his mother. A slight fury took hold and he lunged at the birds with a growl. They scattered and flew away. When they were gone, he turned to see what they had been pestering. On the dry, cracked earth was another lion cub. Its golden-brown pelt was ragged and the pads of its paws were as raw as his. Kimba looked down sadly on the other lion. _Why are you out here?_

“Better pace yourself, buddy, or you’ll be joinin’ ’im soon.”

The white cub spun around to find one lone vulture sitting on the branch of a dead tree above him. Unsure what to make of this, Kimba crouched defensively and growled softly. “My name is Kimba, I’m trying to find my way home, and you can’t stop me.”

“I won’t have to kid; this heat and the desert will do that. I’m just the clean up crew.”

Kimba glared at the bird before turning his attention back the other cub. He carefully poked him with his paw, trying to wake him. The only answer was the soft rise and fall of the golden cub’s rib cage.

“You best leave ’im, and let ’im go in his sleep. Less painful that way, you know.”

“I didn’t see you giving him that sort of peace,” replied Kimba, moving around to the other side of the cub and nudging him with his head. “Why don’t you buzz off, you old grump.”

The vulture seethed with rage. “Oh, yeah, I’ll show you grumpy!” He took to the air and began dive-bombing the lion cub.

Kimba ducked and dodged, hampered only just by the bible’s weight. Feeling it against him, the prince forced himself to calm down. “I don’t want to fight you, mister!” he said. “Let’s be friends!”

“Here we got no use for friends,” said the vulture snidely. “That’s the Law of the Jungle!”

The first thing Simba was aware of was that his body hurt. It felt like something had been poking at him, but that could have just been the memory of the thorns. The next thing he noticed was the voices. He had been alone for a while now, with no one around to speak. So who was talking?

“That’s the Law of the Jungle!” shouted one voice, grating on his ears.

“Not my jungle,” replied the other voice.

Something about the second voice soothed the pain inside him. For some reason, though it was clearly a young voice, it reminded Simba of his father. He opened his eyes. About a foot or so away a white lion cub was battling a large bird.

“Your jungle?” asked the bird, his whole voice an insult.

“Hey!” cried Simba in the loudest voice he could muster. “I don’t know who you are, but your voice is getting on my nerves. Buzz off!”

The vulture made a cry between disbelief and anger. His momentary pause allowed the white cub to land a solid swipe on his wing. Furious at being cheated out of his dinner, the bird soared to the skies and began to circle the cubs.

Panting, the other cub smiled at Simba. “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about him for a while. My name is Kimba. What’s yours?”

“Simba,” replied the Pride Rock Prince.

The white cub, Kimba, looked him worriedly. “No,” he said slowly, “my name’s Kim-ba.”

Understanding the confusion, the gold cub sat down and sighed. “I know. My name is Simba, son of… of… Dad!”

Kimba saw the other cub, Simba’s, face fall as his voice broke on the last word. There was pain in his eyes, and Kimba first thought was how to help. He sat down as well and titled his head.

“Something’s bothering you,” he said. “Anything I can do?”

“Not unless you can change the past.”

They were quiet for a moment, and then Kimba broke the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I… I did something terrible. But I don’t wanna talk about it.”

The white lion got up and walked over to the golden one. He put a paw on the other cub’s shoulder comfortingly.

“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”

_Can’t be that bad… Can’t be that bad…_ The words echoed in Simba’s mind. Along with the memories of his father falling, his Uncle Scar’s words, the stampede, until they swirled and spun like a sandstorm.

“YOU’RE WRONG!” shouted Simba. “My father’s dead, and it’s all my fault! My… fault.” Sobbing, the Pride Rock Prince found the story spilling from his mouth. He told the stranger everything: from how his uncle told him to stay on the rock, to when Nuka appeared and their roaring contest, all the way to the end where the hyenas chased him into the desert.

Kimba listened quietly while Simba told him his story. When the other cub had finished the Jungle Prince spoke, “It’s not your fault.”

Simba looked at his in disbelief. “Yes, it is. If I’d –”

“Simba, if is the biggest two-letter word in the English language; it has so many possibilities, but none of them change anything. I was born on a ship, in the middle of an ocean. My father was killed before I born. He died trying to save my mother, as yours saved you. For however a short time it was, you knew your father. I never will.”

The golden cub looked at him strangely. “Where’s your mom? I mean, what’s a ship?”

This, of course, led to a discussion about things that float, and humans, which Simba said he had never seen before. When Kimba got to the part where his mother made him leave the ship, his voice cracked.

“Hey, you okay?” the golden cub asked.

Kimba just nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “That was the last time I saw her, Simba. There was a storm, and the ship sank. When it was over, I found this –” he tugged on the pouch around his neck “– on a crate floating in the water. It was my friend Joey’s. They both must have drowned. I promised my mom I’d find my father Panja’s Jungle. So, you, see, at least you have a mom to go home to.”

_Panja? Panja… why is that name familiar?_ Simba stared at Kimba, who looked every bit as lost as he felt. Try as he might he couldn’t place the name. He had heard it before, but where? Suddenly he wanted to help the white lion cub. There had to be something he could do. “Did your mom tell you about your pride?” he asked. “I mean, do you have any aunts or uncles? All lions live in prides, so your mom and dad couldn’t have been the only ones.”

“Mom said Father’s sister lived in a village, and hers lived in the jungle. She told me I had an uncle, too; that he was a King while my father was an Emperor. But I can’t remember where. Father had another brother as well, but I was supposed to find this King Mufasa first.”

Simba froze. “Mufasa? Your uncle’s name is Mufasa?” he asked.

Kimba looked at him strangely. “Yeah, why?”

But the wheels in Simba’s head were turning. The memory of another white lion flashed in his mind. It was an old memory, but his father had told him that was his uncle… the day before he died!

_“His name was Panja, my son. He came a great distance just to see you. His mate, Eliza, has a child by now, too. I wish you could have known him. I have heard that he told Eliza to name his son Kimba. I wish with all my heart for the two of you to meet, though it will most likely never occur. But should you ever see the son of Panja, know this: You can trust him. He will never steer you wrong. The white lions are the wisest of all.”_

The memory faded and Simba stared at the white cub. Could this really be his cousin? He took a deep breath and asked another question. “Your dad’s other two siblings, were their names Scar and Leona?”

“How did you know that?” The words flew out of Kimba’s mouth before he could stop them. He stared at Simba in surprise. This cub was a stranger. How could he know?

“Because, my father was King Mufasa,” replied the golden cub. “Your mom’s name is Eliza, right?”

Kimba nodded, and then froze. “Wait a minute! You mean…” he began.

“I think so,” said Simba.

“We’re cousins!” they said in unison. The two cubs jumped around each other a moment and smiled.

“Look, Simba,” said Kimba, “I know you don’t feel you have any right to go home, but won’t your mother miss you?”

“When Uncle Scar tells her what happened, she’ll hate me.”

No mother would ever hate her child, thought Kimba. Aloud he said, “Well, unless you got somewhere else in mind, why don’t you come with me to Panja’s Jungle? I could use some company.”

The golden cub’s eyes lit up for the first time since Kimba had seen him. He nodded. “Yeah,” he replied, stretching. “I think I’d like that.”

So they set off together, the Lion King and the Jungle Emperor, across the desert that did not seem so deserted anymore. Neither cub noticed the vulture was watching them warily from the skies.


	10. Fateful Meetings

The dry dusty wasteland gave way at last to a lush savannah. Grateful to be out of the blazing sun, the two lion princes rolled into the lush grass and savored the shade of a nearby tree. Before long, they were both sound asleep in the swaying grass.

The sun had nearly set when Kimba awoke. His ears twitched and then he sat up. He could hear someone crying not far off.

Simba stirred when he sensed Kimba was up. When he saw how tense the other cub was, he crouched low to the ground. “What is it?” asked the Pride Rock Prince.

But Kimba just signaled for him to be quiet. The white cub got up and crept toward the sound, his elder cousin right on his heels. A little ways away they came upon a hunter’s trap. Inside was a tawny antelope, trying at the urging of a colorful bird to leap out over the sides. But he just couldn’t make it. The two princes came closer to investigate.

“Hi,” said Kimba softly. “Can we help you?”

The friends started; the bird flew out of reach and the antelope backed against the cage bars.

“Wh-who are you?” the antelope asked shakily.

“Let’s talk about that when we get you out of here,” replied the Jungle Prince. “We’re here to help.”

“How?” asked Simba, gnawing on the bars. “This stuff is harder than rocks. What _is_ this thing, anyway?”

“Are you completely stupid?” squawked the bird. “It’s a cage!”

“I know,” replied Kimba. He began to circle the structure, looking for a week point. “I was born in one of these.”

“Born in one?” repeated the bird. “How did you escape?”

Before Kimba could answer they all turned, listening to a loud rumbling headed their direction.

Simba froze. “Now what?” he asked.

The bird panicked. “It’s the hunters!” he cried. “We have to get out of here!”

The white cub pushed on the door to find it swung inward. He leaded his shoulder against it to hold it open. “Come on!” said Kimba. “Go!”

The antelope looked back and forth between the cubs then bolted out of the trap. The Jungle Prince let the door slam shut and took off after them, Simba right behind him. But so were the humans.

The antelope stumbled as a bullet tore the bark from a tree right beside him. He looked up dejectedly. “I’m betting on the poachers,” he said as his feathered friend insisted he keep moving.

The white cub looked over his shoulder toward the hunters as an idea struck him. “I’ll take care of this,” he told them, racing back the way they’d come. He heard Simba call his name, but ignored it.

It took him only a few minutes to a catch up the hunters. At first he ran in front of them, a perfect target. Then when they least expected it he turned and leaped onto the hood of the jeep, causing the driver to swerve sideways. He jumped clear just as the vehicle rolled over into the grass. The hunters were swearing when he turned and headed for Simba and the other two. “See ya!” he called over his shoulder with a laugh.

Once he reached his cousin and their new companions they all started running, eager to put as much distance between the humans and themselves as they could.

“Slick move,” said Simba with a smile as they ran.

As soon as they had breath, the antelope and bird introduced themselves to the lion cubs.

“I’m Coco,” said the parrot, “and this here’s T.K.”

The white cub smiled kindly. “I’m Kimba and this is Simba,” he replied.

“What!” shouted the parrot. The bird did a double take. “It can’t be!”

The Pride Rock prince crouched and growled. “ _What_ can’t be?” he demanded.

Kimba rolled his eyes. “Simba, chill. I think Mom told me about this bird. He knew my father.”

“Really? So he’s like Zazu?”

“Not exactly…”

Coco did a somersault in the air before he replied. “Is it really Prince Simba? But I was told you died in the stampede!”

The gold cub looked suddenly wary. “By who? What else did they tell you?”

The parrot was no longer looking at him though. He was staring at his cousin. “Can it really be Prince Kimba? You were said to have drowned!”

The Jungle Prince’s eyes tightened, but he smiled and nodded. “Pleased to meet you, T.K. and Coco,” he said conversationally before turning to Simba. “It seems the rumors of our death are widely exaggerated.”

“And isn’t that just a shame?” said a voice from behind them.

Both the Princes looked up as a large, dark brown lion stepped out of the trees, a black panther on his heels. T. K. and Coco ran and hid behind a tree as the buzzard that had been tailing them flew into view.

“I told you it was them,” said the bird as he struggled to stay airborne. “Did I do good, or what?”

“You’ve done _very_ well, Cassim,” replied the dark lion. “Now be quiet. It seems I have some business to attend to.”

“Just who are you, anyway?” asked Simba, moving so he and his cousin stood alongside each other.

It was Kimba who answered. “Bubu, I presume?” he said dryly.

The stranger froze. “Yes,” he replied. “What gave it away?”

“That scar on your face.”

The dark lion chuckled. “I see Eliza lost no time with you, _Kimba_. Though I wonder – did she tell you who _gave_ me this scar?”

Simba pressed closer to Kimba as he and the panther began to circle them.

“No.” Simba glanced up to see a confused expression on the Jungle Prince’s face. “She didn’t.”

“It was _Panja –”_ The dark lion spat the name. “– who gave this to me. But now, fate has been reversed. It’s _my_ jungle, not your father’s.”

A horrified expression crossed the white cub’s face before he shook himself and stared at the other lion. “I am Panja and Eliza’s heir.” Kimba drew himself to his full height. “By right _I_ am the Jungle Emperor.”

Bubu’s grin sent a chill down Simba’s spine. “Your father gave you a fitting name. Allow me to help you live up to it!” The dark lion pounced, forcing them apart.

Simba scrambled up a tree while Kimba rolled to the side. Within moments, the three animals were moving almost too fast to follow.

“Psst!” said Coco abruptly. “T.K. and I have a plan. But we’re going to need a diversion.”

“A diversion?” Simba replied. “Like what?”

“Anything! You just have to get their attention!”

The Pride Rock Prince winced as a swipe of the panther’s paw missed his cousin by a hair’s breadth. Suddenly he thought of Mheetu; he had not saved the pale cub, but _this_ time would be different. He nodded. “Okay! Just get him out of here!”

Simba climbed higher into the tree until he was right above Kimba and his attackers. He broke a small branch off and threw it at Bubu. “Hey!” he shouted as his missile hit home. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

Both of the big cats looked up, and T.K. and Coco burst from their cover. Simba smirked as they and Kimba took off.

Bubu growled. “After them, you idiots!” he shouted to the buzzard and the panther. “Someone like _you_ , you mean?”

Simba gulped. “Uh… See ya!” he said, and took off through the treetops. He heard the older lion climb the tree after him. _I really should take that phrase out of my vocabulary!_

He covered more distance through the trees than he ever had in his life. The déjà vu hit once more as he dug his claws into a branch at the edge of a tall cliff. A river rushed far below, and only one more tree grew out over the ledge. Simba turned and saw Bubu advancing upon him. He took a deep breath and leaped for that last tree.

Kimba followed T.K. and Coco into a narrow cave. The duo seemed to know exactly where they were going, but clearly, the panther did not. A short while after the dark closed in on them they heard a shriek as their pursuer lost his footing on some ledge behind them.

“One big worry down,” said Coco as they reached the end of the tunnel. A long row of ledges formed a sort of stairway to the riverbank below. “Guess old Shaka couldn’t keep up.”

“That’s was a pretty brave thing to do,” said Kimba. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” replied T.K. “You saved us first anyway. Which is really a surprise, you know. Historically, lions eat guys like us.”

The white cub was not sure what to say to that. Then he looked around. “Where’s Simba?” asked Kimba abruptly.

“Um, I think he’s over there,” replied T.K. in a worried tone, nodded to a cliff just within sight.

Kimba saw a branch break, sending the golden cub plunging into the water beneath the cliff. He shouted his cousin’s name and hurried down the ledges, only to have the first two crumble out from under him. Then he too was falling into the rushing water. But the white cub was luckier than his cousin; he was tossed around for a moment or two before the river washed him into the shallows.

“You have to watch that first step,” said Coco as he came up beside him, his wings flapping rapidly. “It’s a doozy.”

Kimba ignored him and took off up the bank toward the cliff.

“What’s your hurry?” asked T.K. as he finally caught up with them. “Wait for us!”

“He’s my cousin!” he replied, not stopping. “And last I checked, shouldn’t _you_ be worried about him, too?”

“Look, Kimba,” said Coco. “The river flows _towards_ us. We’ll find him sooner or later. Don’t worry.”

Yet the white cub just kept running. Simba was more than his cousin, more than the Lion King. He was his best friend.


	11. Hakuna Matata

Simba regained consciousness on the riverbank as a small amount of water splashed into his face. The last thing he remembered was the river closing around him, and the world going black. Then he thought of Kimba. Was he all right?

“You know, Pumbaa, I’m not too sure about this,” said a fast voice somewhere beside him. “Lions eat guys like us.”

“Timon, he’s just a _little_ lion. Look, he’s awake!”

The cub looked up to see a meerkat and a warthog standing over him.

“You okay, kid?” asked meerkat, owner of the first voice.

Simba thought through the question. _Was_ he okay? “I guess so,” he replied. He opened his mouth to speak, but the warthog beat him to it.

“You nearly _died_ ,” he said, water dripping from his mane.

“I saved you,” said the meerkat, whom Simba noted was remarkably dry. The warthog snorted, and he added, “Well, Pumbaa helped. A little.”

“Thanks for your help,” said Simba, getting to his feet.

“Hey,” said the meerkat, “where you going?”

“I have to find my cousin,” replied Simba as he started to walk away.

“Your cousin?” repeated the warthog.

“White fellow, kind of small, black tail tip?” asked the meerkat.

“Yeah,” said the cub, his face lighting up. “You’ve seen him?”

“He’s right there.”

The Pride Rock Prince turned and saw Kimba rushing toward him.

“Simba!” yelled the white cub.

“Kimba!” he shouted, running toward him with joy.

The cousins crashed together then skipped around each other talking about a mile a minute. Once they had both filled the other in on what had happened, the white cub turned to Simba’s rescuers.

“Thank you so much for saving my cousin,” he said. “My name is Kimba. What’s yours?”

“Oh, no!” said Coco loudly. “Not you two!”

“What’s with you?” asked the meerkat. “We’re not contagious or anything. I’m Timon, and this is Pumbaa. Nice to meet ya.”

“I’m Simba,” added the Pride Rock Prince. “This is T.K. and Coco.”

“We’ve met,” said T.K. with distaste. “Well, come on, boys. Let’s get going. See you around.”

“Are we missing something?” asked Kimba.

“Just that these are the two biggest bums in the jungle,” replied Coco.

“Hey!” protested Timon and Pumbaa.

“I resent that,” said Pumbaa.

“I’ll have you know that we are creatures worldly wise,” said Timon.

“Oh _that’s_ rich,” snapped Coco. “You lazy –”

“Coco, chill,” said Kimba. “Then what are you?”

“Just a couple of buddies who had the sense to get while the getting was good,” said Timon. “We have heeded _Hakuna Matata_.”

“What?” asked Simba and Kimba.

Their companions rolled their eyes.

“Look, sometimes bad things happen,” explained Timon. “And there’s nothing you can do about it, right?”

“Right,” answered the lion cubs.

“WRONG!” said the meerkat. “When the world turns its back on you, you turn your back on the world.”

“That’s not what I was taught,” said Simba.

“Me either,” added Kimba, who was starting to share T.K. and Coco’s disapproval of the duo.

“Maybe you two need a new lesson: repeat after me: _Hakuna Matata_.”

“It means no worries,” said Pumbaa. “Our problem-free philosophy.”

“I can see _several_ problems with it,” replied the white lion. “Come on, Simba. Let’s go.”

Simba’s face fell, but he sighed and followed. However, just then, the cubs’ stomach rumbled.

“Wait,” said Pumbaa kindly. “Why don’t you stay for lunch?”

“Well…” said Kimba, trying to decide just how hungry he was. “What do you think, Simba?”

“I’m so hungry, I could eat a whole zebra.”

Timon and Pumbaa blanched. T.K. and Coco looked at each other worriedly.

“Uh, we’re fresh out of zebra,” replied the meerkat.

“Any ante –” Simba began, but Kimba nudged his side and looked pointedly at T.K. “Uh, ants?”

“ _Now_ you’re talking!” said the meerkat. “Right this way, my leonine guests! Right this way!”

Confused, the four companions followed the duo to an old log.

“Pumbaa, if you would?”

Kimba and Simba stared at each other as the warthog lifted up the old log to reveal a mass of insects.

“It’s self-serve, kids! Enjoy!”

Kimba’s jaw dropped at the same time as his cousin’s, as they both realized just what Timon was suggesting.

“Eww, gross!” they said in unison, making identical faces of disgust.

Coco and T.K. laughed.

“Aw, come on!” said Coco. “This is a banquet!”

“Maybe to _you_ ,” said Simba.

Kimba looked completely revolted.

“Look,” said the meerkat as he began putting together a leaf-platter of bugs. “If you’re gonna live here, you kind of need an alternate diet.” He held the make-shift tray out to the cousins. “What’s it gonna be?”

Reluctantly, both cubs reached out and picked up a bug. They looked at each other a second before swallowing them whole. They both seemed a bit sick, but the bugs stayed down.

“Slimy, yet satisfying,” said Simba.

Kimba just nodded. He wasn’t completely sure he wouldn’t throw up.

“You learn to love ‘em,” said Timon and Pumbaa with their mouths full. “Welcome to the jungle!”

Both cubs put their paws over their mouths. This new diet was going to take some getting used to.

Later that evening, T.K. and Coco took them to the top of an old ruin overlooking the Jungle Emperor’s kingdom. The sight that greeted them was a lush tropical forest filled with waterfalls and mountains. Neither cub could quite believe what they were seeing.

“ _Wow,”_ said Simba in awe. “You live _here_?”

Kimba was far more emotional. Tears filled his eyes, and he took off running through the trees with Simba on his heels. “I’ve never been here before,” he said to his cousin. “But it sure feels like home.”

Together, the cubs came to an opening where they could see the stars. As they looked up at the Great Kings of the Past, both cubs were filled with opposite emotions neither spoke aloud.

 _Mom, Dad,_ Kimba thought with sorrow-tinged joy. _I did it. I made it. I’m home. And I found Simba. Now we just have to put the kingdoms to rights again – if I can convince him._


	12. False Alarm, Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE [From Fanfiction.net]:
> 
> The point of this chapter is that you can't simply post author's note chapters without breaking the rules. Thank you all for your support and reviews, but I want more from myself than this mess. The boys have explained, but here's my personal thank you. Never think I don't appreciate it.

Kimba looked out at the gathered before him. His cousin sat beside him, offering what comfort and support he could. Finally, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I know those of you that follow this story are waiting for more, but it's just not coming any time soon."

There was an outcry of protest and indignation from those gathered. Complaints that their hopes had been gotten up when this meeting was called filled the air.

Kimba cringed back from the anger and rage. He cowered down, covering his head with his paws. He was shaking from the guilt of having to deliver this message.

"ENOUGH!" Simba leapt between the crowd and his cousin, glaring at each one. "Don't shoot the messenger. The author's not pleased with how this story came out and isn't eager to compound the mistake by continuing it from here. If you would stop and _listen_ , you'd find out that a rewrite may be in the future. Right now this is just a lame Christian-infested script-rewrite."

Kimba slowly got to his feet and stepped to Simba's side. "Not that there's anything wrong with Christian elements, it's just that this story, instead of being the Narnia-flavored piece the author wanted, has turned into a bad rip-off of a Precious Moments special. " His blue gaze turned cold. "This story will be left as is for now, until a rewrite can be made and some of the chapters will be lost when that day comes. We ask you for patience and understanding."

"The goal here is to have a _good_ story worth your time instead of a badly wrote mess." Simba shifted to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Kimba. "This isn't an insult aimed at the readers. This story was a product of its time and the era. If the author cannot salvage the story itself, it will be deleted."

"Please," Kimba said, looking at each person with a hopeful expression. "Please understand that this is not an attack. The author appreciates each of you; her feelings toward this story are not her feelings toward you. Thank you for your time."

"Next time we won't waste it," added Simba, smiling. "We promise."


End file.
